


Waterbound

by WeedAnarchist



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Blood, Father/Son time!, Gen, Guns, Hodgkins is a big dad tbh, Human AU, Human!Moomins, I had to research ww2 lol, I hurt Hodgkins :), I wouldnt suggest you read this if you have a problem with blood, Im so glad im taking world history next year lol, Joxter and Snufkin reunite, Joxter has emotions, Joxter's mild form of alcoholism, M/M, Medic muddler!!, Muddler is a medic!!, Nobody's dead dont worry guys, Okay seriously guys there's a lot of war shit going on here, Snufkin got deployed, Snufkin is also aged up to around 19 or 20 because of drafting requirements, Snufkin is in the army, Snufkin writes letters home to Moomintroll, Snufkin!! Is!! a little babey!!, This AU makes me wanna CRY, This shit got "Saving Private Ryan" written all over it, Violence, WW2, WW2!AU, WWII, War, World War 2 AU, angsty, moomin au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeedAnarchist/pseuds/WeedAnarchist
Summary: It was the year 1940, the events of World War II were reaching it's peak and the United States had just issued a draft for all men starting at the fresh age of 19. Snufkin, calm and reserved, never thought it would've been him. After being drafted and ripped from his home and friends in Moomin Valley, he's subjected to things he thought only the bloody horror stories on Moominpapa's shelves could speak of. The only thing keeping him going is the promise that he will return to his beloved Moomin on the very first day of spring, so God help him.





	Waterbound

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to @reys_humble_habod on instagram for this amazing AU!! I highly recommend you check out their Insta if u wanna see art of the AU
> 
> Also some quick clarifications and HC's of mine that revolve around this AU:
> 
> \- They're in a squad (a group of about 8 - 24 men) and Hodgkin's is the Sergeant of this squad  
> \- I have a headcanon that Joxter would make a really good Sniper  
> \- Muddler is a Combat Medic (THE medic of the squad)  
> \- Okay, in this AU, I really don't think Joxter was a deadbeat dad. I never rlly supported the thought of him being a deadbeat dad either. I again sorta believe he just had to go missing for the safety of his family? Men between 19 - 45 (I believe) were drafted so tbh I headcanon that Joxter was drafted and met Muddler through boot camp and later met Hodgkin's after being deployed into his squad, and then Snufkin was drafted probably a few months after all that happened.

_Soldier keep on marching on_

_Head down til the work is done_

_Waiting on that morning sun_

_Soldier keep on marching on_

* * *

  _Winter in Germany, 1941_

Snufkin couldn't feel his toes. The snow beneath his feet was muddy, wet, and slushy, and it was slowly eating away at the soles of his boots. Half the men in his little group weren't even properly bundled up for this kind of weather and he could hear their complaints in the distance. The chattering of their teeth, their wincing footsteps, the moaning and groaning. Snufkin himself yearned to sit next to a fireplace and feel hot air against his skin, the thought was almost torturous. The warmest he could get out here was under the thin bed-sheets of a bunker (or on a bed of dry rocks) and neither of those would be close for another fifteen minutes. He buried his nose deeper into the thick scarf he had wrapped around his throat and tried his best to distract himself from the gnawing cold. At least the whiteness of the snow reminded him a little of Moomin. There hadn't been a day where the thought of Moomin and his friends left his mind, and it made his heart ache deeper than any ache a man could imagine. He even missed Sniff and Little My every now and then.

"Attention!" The leader at the front of their group shouted. He started shouting directions at the whole lot of them; how they should take off their boots and let them dry and make themselves at home in their new crowded bunkers, etc. He had announced this all before they started their trek up the hillside, so Snufkin didn't listen too hard. They were about to reach their new squad which Snufkin wasn't particularly keen about doing. He would have to sleep with others, eat with others, and constantly be around other people. Not that he'd been doing that for the past 3 months, but he didn't want a sudden increase in it at all. Their group was slowly coming up onto a big cluster of green tents and camouflaged vehicles, all sprinkled white and wet with snow melt. Simple furniture like small tables and chairs were scattered about the camp and weaponry and ammunition were posted nearby each one. It didn't look warm, or nice, or comforting - but it was going to be home for however long the war decided to go on. Gradually they came upon the camp, and once they reached it they were immediately dismissed to their newly assigned bunkers. Snufkin had heard news of more soldiers coming to join them but fortunately they were here first, so they were able to get what beds they liked.

"Finally.." Snufkin murmured, letting out a sigh of relief as he sat down onto his slid off his pack. He placed his rifle by his bedside and kicked off his boots and socks to make sure his toes weren't turning black or something nasty like that (which they weren't, but they were a very bright red).

"You don't got trench foot do you?" A soft voice sitting on the bed across from him asked curiously.

"Well I hope not" Snufkin chuckled lightly, taking out a rag from his pack and wiping himself dry.

"That's good, I'm glad-! Oh, let me introduce myself; I'm Muddler! Medic of this here squad" Muddler smiled at him. He was an older, short little man, a little tanner than most of the men here and with very dark brown and curly hair (even darker than his own). He looked very quirky based on all the things he'd decorated his uniform with, and it seemed like he enjoyed collecting things based on the status of the area next to his bed. Buttons (Snufkin assumed) were his favorite. He was dressed in a tightly-packed swampy colored uniform and a helmet (that was much too big) painted with red crosses on all sides.

"Snufkin" he responded, grabbing a pen and a dirt-smudged notepad out from his pack and quickly beginning to write his letter to Moomintroll. He wasn't too keen on talking to anyone right now, he wanted to hurry and write this letter before he _couldn't_. The thought of that unsettled Snufkin and nearly caused him to stiffen with anxiety - but for the sake of his folks back at home he would pull through.

" _Snufkin?_ " Muddler said with exasperation

"Hmm? Yes?" Snufkin looked up from his vigorous scribbling of letters.

"N-Nothing, I'll see you at supper" the medic nearly sprinted out of the tent.

 _What a strange fellow, hope I won't be looking up at him any time soon.._ Snufkin tried to make himself laugh but it only made him feel even more cold with dread. _Just..quit thinking about things like that.._ he told himself calmly, looking back down at his paper and writing some more.

_Dear Moomintroll,_

_By the time you've received this letter they've probably made us move further into this hillside already. But everything so far has been alright, I'm alright and there hasn't been much trouble lately. You see the occasional Nazi but, I'm never the one to really shoot them or anything. They deployed me into Germany, though not really too far into the country. We're near France I think. I'll admit it's pretty chaotic here, and it's also cold as hell. The winter here is much worse than anything back home, lots more snow than I accounted for. Germany is quite pretty but, I think the war ruined it forever..anyways, how have you and Mama and Papa been? Is Little My behaving? I'll be seeing you soon remember! First day of spring!_

_\- Sincerely, Snufkin_

Snufkin looked down at his letter with satisfaction, folding it gently and stuffing it back into his pack. He wished he could've said  _more_ but he didn't want to run the risk of being "found out" or anything.. He'd send the letter as soon as possible, but for now, he needed to tend to other important things. Like his growling stomach which was eager for the suppertime his Medic spoke of. He put back on his boots (which were a little drier but still cold), left his bag sitting by his bedside, and moved past the tent flaps of what you would probably call a "bedroom." Several other groups of men were making their way towards a notably larger tent in the center of the camp which carried the scent of food in the wind. Snufkin didn't hesitate to go towards it either, very much incited by the thought of a (mildly) warm meal. Anxiously he entered the mess hall tent, very much uncomfortable by all the chatter and loud voices. Thankfully his starving gut was enough to distract him, and he got himself a plate and carried through the line as if it were a school cafeteria. He was given a couple small sausages, a slice of bread, and a side of rice. _Not too bad!_ He grinned, maybe the Army could top his own stew he used to make back at home. Snufkin didn't plan on eating his dinner outside the mess hall (even though he would probably kill to do so) because it would get cold, but at the moment he was trying to find the emptiest area possible. Which was frankly _impossible_ because the mess hall was _always_ crowded. So for him it was either put up with a bunch of loud people or let his food freeze, and Snufkin was particularly considering the latter. In all this chaos he spied a familiar gloved hand beckoning him over to a table occupied by a few others. Muddler. The combat medic had a very innocently friendly, encouraging smile on his face and it was clear he wanted the Private to join him. Snufkin, unable to say no to that face, walked awkwardly over to the group of men.

"Snufkin!" Muddler greeted him happily.

The taller man next to him choked on his drink, " _Snufkin?_ "

Muddler jabbed the man in the ribs with his elbow. "How's your day been so far? Hodgkin's here tells me you were apart of that new group that came in!"

Snufkin took a bite out of his bread and nodded, "that's right." While chewing he took a look at the man (Hodgkin's) sitting next to Muddler. He was a taller, pale and broad-shouldered man who was clearly somewhere in his mid to late thirties. His hair was so lightly colored it almost appeared silver in the light and his stubble almost made it appear gray. His dark eyes were exhausted and his face was dirt-smeared just like everyone else's. He was also wearing the same murky green uniform, and Snufkin was sure his insignia translated to Sergeant but he wasn't _too_ sure. Did Sergeants normally eat with their soldiers? "Might I ask who you are sir?"

"Ah, yes-" the Sergeant stretched a gloved hand over the table "Sergeant Hodgkin's, nice to meet ya kid."

Snufkin shook his hand, _can't believe I'm eating with the medic AND the Sergeant..jeez, I didn't think they were even allowed to do that?_

 

Hodgkin's took a bite of his own food, "Muddler have you seen Joxter lately?"

The way Muddler sighed after Hodgkin's question reminded him of the way Moominmama sighed after Little My had broken a dish for the fourth time that same week. "I see him every day, but today someone decided to leave the alcohol barrel open wide for the whole world to see, and look where we are now. The idiot's missed dinner!" The medic scowled at his dinner plate, picking up a fork and poking at his sausage.

"If you're too pissed off to eat that I will" Hodgkin's said jokingly.

Snufkin swallowed a bite of rice, a little surprised to notice how fast half the food on his plate had disappeared. "Can I ask who Joxter is?"

The two men seemed hesitant to answer his question, even Muddler looked away from him. "Just a good friend of mine who needs a bit of adjustment" Muddler sighed and began eating his food.

"Oh" Snufkin didn't bother pressing on and focused more on eating the rest of his food. He'd be able to talk to Muddler later, since apparently they were sharing the same tent. The three of them finished their food together, Snufkin making what small talk he had the energy for. Muddler seemed like a good friend to have, he was internally glad that he was the medic and not some other crazy guy with a saw. Hodgkin's seemed reliable, and Snufkin was glad that they had him as the squad leader and not some old prick.

"I'm going to go try to find Joxter" Muddler sighed, standing up from the bench and grabbing his empty plate. "Hodgkin's if you run into him don't tell him I'm looking for him, it's like chasing a dog, he'll just run away" he rolled his eyes.

"Yes sir" Hodgkin's said, amusement twinkling in his gaze as he watched him leave. "Ah, Joxter's a fubar..but he's a good man, lucky to have him."

Snufkin watched Muddler leave the mess hall with curious eyes. "What makes a drunk soldier special, sir?"

"Joxter's not a drunk, he just _drinks,_ kid" Hodgkin's shrugged. "And maybe one day you'll see - Joxter's the finest shot in this squad. Could probably pass Sniper School if he wanted."

"Hmm" he finished his plate.

"Well, you best get to bed son. Kids like you need all their hours clocked in, especially for what we're gonna be dealing with tomorrow."

"And what would that be, sir?"

"Moving" the Sergeant chuckled lightly.

Snufkin nodded, sighing through his nose. "Then I'll get to bed I suppose" he hopped out of his seat and grabbed his plate.

"See you in the AM" Hodgkin's said with finality, smiling at him before watching him leave.

Snufkin tossed his plate out and re-entered the outside world, which seemed to have gotten much colder in the past hour he was in mess hall. Sunset had slipped past him, and the sky was already turning a deep dark shade of blue. Frost was beginning to cover the sides of the tents. He could see his breath right in front of him and he didn't have to think twice about staying out for much longer. He quickly made his way back to the tent and grumbled under his breath as he noticed more soldiers had moved into he and Muddler's tent, a few were already sleeping in their beds. Snufkin walked over to his bed which thankfully remained untouched in the time he was gone. He slipped off his boots once more, took off his helmet, and got beneath his covers. His eyes were wide open as he stared into the darkness, his brain running wild with thought. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to think of something that reminded him of home; Moomintroll and his friends. This calmed his brain down. He began to drift off peacefully his mind running over wholesome and playful memories he had before he was drafted. Just like the times where he, Little My, Moomin, and Sniff had a chicken fight in the river and he and Moomin got totally destroyed by Sniff and Little My. Snufkin chuckled softly in the darkness, and quickly found himself asleep with happy little dreams in a world full of chaos.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS PAINFULLY SHORT IM SRRY  
> Yall have no idea how much ww2 shit I had to research, I'll be passing all my world history exams next yr after I publish this
> 
> Oh btw if any USA history/military nerds wanna correct me if I'm being inaccurate please go ahead :)


End file.
